


The Other Genetic Material

by SRN (a_b_b_e)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ectobiology, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 17:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2278635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_b_b_e/pseuds/SRN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a time loop & paradox clones work incorrectly</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Genetic Material

Dreambubbles are… unstable things. Blink, and everything can change. Especially when you’re alone. So one learns not to blink involuntarily; not an easy task, whether ones spent years or sweeps doing so.

But sleep will come. The mind craves for something different. It wanders off to its carapace-filled dreams, dreams that only get stranger once the dreamer has died.

Vriska awoke. Ah, Nick Cage posters. The was the meteor. But… no. It was a dreambubble. She vaguely remembered perusing a winged rust-blood before, knowing it was useless – one on one, time really wasn’t on her side. Besides, there was no real need to carry on with the whole revenge idea. t was nice to think she still _could_ , however.

Vriska wandered around the lab for a few hours, being careful to keep from any entrances she couldn’t remember. There _had_ to be something to do here alone. But nobody responded on Trollian, and all the halls she knew were empty.

She found herself wandering past incubation tubes. None of these animals in tubes would even put up a struggle. Then the place that was as close to the incestuous slurry as she had ever got the main Ectobiology Lab. it all seemed rather clean. And boring.

The big blue button didn’t even do anything. Well, a little humming noise. Maybe she could reboot it?

She though back. Her Doomsday Devices all had seemed to do something when she tried to active them in dream bubbles – nothing like they had in her lifetime. Ah… that one that had killed every lusus on the planet – good times. Though the end of the scenario with the Republic of Tavros – well, she might have to try that again with different participants.

She lay down on the floor and reached under the console. She felt around – gnawbeast fluff, a bone, more gnawbeast fluff – AHA! A Plug! It was great how a memory could insert the known for the unknown. Unplug – the silence of cooling fans spinning to a stop – wait thirty seconds for safety – re-plug-

Was that the marching music she had heard back on Skaia?

And the screen came up! It was… her? Reaching under the machine. A default origin point of the machine itself made enough sense. It seemed to be pointing to five minutes ago, though. She involuntarily jumped back. Was this a self-cloning setup? Her mind boggled at the prospect. She felt like the machine was looking back at her. Why, if there were two of her, she might actually make it out of the drea-

WHAT WAS THAT

She slumped over, falling on something squishy. Something trying to get out from under her. Everything was fuzzy. Had her glasses fallen off? It was grabbing at her. No, pushing her.

Everything felt weird. Softer? She reached up to rub her eyes.

WHY WERE WHERE HANDS GREEN. WHY COULD SHE SEE THROUGH HER HANDS.

She squinted. Something was getting up. Well, trying. F***. It was her. No, “Paradox Slime Her”. But that didn’t make any sense? Karkat had said nothing about Paradox Slime getting up and wandering off.

Wait. She was one too. She was a slime. Thing. Clone? Failed Clone? Something like that. I tried to call out. What resulted was a muffled belch, and the feeling of innards sloshing around.

Other-slime-her was up. Well, it looked like “on her knees” was appropriate, if her knees were a jumbled mess of goo.

Getting up seemed like a good thing to do. It took a minute. The she found her handing her her glasses.

What?

She put the glasses on.

Ok.

God-tier-her lay on her back in front of the console, breathing. Knocked out? No, covering her head. Slipped. Headache.

Old-slime-her seemed to be looking around the room, squinting. She, to released a belch.

So I’m New-slime-her. Or something. Oh, this was a none-of-the-luck day. None of it.

God-tier-her groaned, and started to-

TRIPLE VISION ARGH

CAN’T CLOSE EYES EYELIDS ARE SLIME

God-tier-me closed my eyes and concentrated. This was do-able. Some clear, some fuzzy. Another pair of glasses would be nice.

Too Many. Triage.

Old-me slipped over to God-tier-her. No won’t must yuck taste tight can’t chew don’t AHHHH moist burns fit push

New-slime-me tries to watch old-slime-her get eaten. Nothing to enjoy, mixed the sensation of condiment sac. Will need a camera next time. Or maybe just watch on the Ectobiology machine. So filling. So tight. Oh, there’s till a leg. Has to wait. Too much. Don’t want to hurl. You eat it. Much Easier. No sense of taste. Less digesting then absorbing.

New-her should massage. Help to digest faster, maybe. Then I decide. Make up my mind what to do next.


End file.
